PlanetFargo

Speaking with an Online RPG Visionary

Feldhausen: In my upcoming book I outline a different type of game. I call it an "Online Micropay RPG." This allows players with large cash reserves to obviate the need to spend many hours online building up a character. It would cost only $6.99 a month in U.S. dollars to play. However, you can buy additional skill points for your character at affordable rates, such as $5 a point. You can also buy additional gear and weapons. Powerful platemail armor, for instance, could be gained through hours of tedious adventuring OR by simply paying a one-time fee of $29.99 to me, Martin Feldhausen. Magical armor can be yours for $49.99. A staff that shoots fireballs would cost merely--

Fargo: Hang on, they can just buy the stuff? Wouldn't that destroy the virtual economy?

Feldhausen: Virtual economies are of marginal importance. I'm concerned with the REAL economy. These games are costly and time-consuming to run, and if I'm going to run one, I'm also going to need a fast car with leather seats. Bandwidth costs money: why should I cater to some pimpled no-life teenagers who have 18 hours a day to spend on my game, at the expense of paying customers who don't have that much free time? No, I'd like to ensure that anyone with a lot of cash can do good at my game, provided they pay large sums of money to me: Martin Feldhausen.

Feldhausen drew a rough outline of his plans on this napkin.

Fargo: But your whole system is completely unfair. Someone could just buy their way to an uber-character!

Feldhausen: People do it all the time, just look on eBay. At least with my system, the cash goes directly to whoever's running the game. Me. Martin Feldhausen.

Fargo: But that totally destroys, well, it ruins all sorts of game mechanics--

Feldhausen: No, in fact, it simplifies them immensely.

Fargo: --for example! What about player-killing? Wouldn't the rich people always win?

Feldhausen: An excellent example! You see, when one person kills another, much like in real life, one person enjoys the experience only at the expense of the other. So you simply look at the economics of it and compare the two players. In my theoretical game -- "CashQuest" I'm fond of calling it -- let's say that player A wants to kill player B. All player A has to do is pay me, Martin Feldhausen, the appropriate player-killing fee. This is a sliding scale based on the potential revenue of player B. Let's say that player B is one of those freeloading teenagers playing my game at minimal cost each month. The lifecycle of a player is typically eight months -- eight months at $7 a month is $56. My potential revenue from that freeloading player is only $56, so you're permitted to wreck his game experience, but only if you pay me (Martin Feldhausen) the $56 up front. For an extra $20, he'll scream and cry and beg for mercy while you deliver the killing blow. You can also have non-player characters appear to applaud and cheer when the other player is killed at the low cost of $4.50 per NPC.

Fargo: That's ridiculous!

Feldhausen: But shouldn't the players who give me more money get to have more fun? If player B didn't want to get slaughtered, he'd have bought more armor and weapons from me, not only enhancing his character but protecting himself by escalating the cost required to kill him. After all, it's more expensive to kill my higher-paying customers. Also, he could've insured all of his favorite pieces of armor and weapons (for a small fee, of course. Payable to me. Martin Feldhausen.)

In fact, it's all quite elegant. If too many players are logged in at once and my bandwidth costs are getting too high, I merely lower the cost of killing other players until less people are on the server. The players get a good deal, I conserve bandwidth, and I make a lot of money.

Fargo: But you're encouraging a whole swarm of rich powermongers who can slaughter entire servers if they have enough cash!

Feldhausen: I only wish! Certainly the end goal from my perspective is a server littered with nothing but bloody corpses and dollar signs from horizon to horizon. Ideally only a handful of players would be left standing amidst the carnage, sucking up minimal bandwidth and paying me exorbitant fees to wield their godlike supremacy. But realistically it doesn't work out that way. Being a grief player would be very costly -- on average you'd pay about $100 a kill. That can quickly add up (unless you purchase the specially-priced genocide package each month.) So you see, it all balances out.

Now tell me, honestly, how often have you met someone online you'd want to shell out money to kill? Hmm? Fairly often, I'd say. Quite often.